


Rifle and Sword

by Arzani



Category: One Piece
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, One Shot Collection, random thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-05-06 18:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arzani/pseuds/Arzani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rifle and Sword. Sake and Smoke. Silver and Red. Two bodies, one soul. Random thoughts, different moments. Everything my heart aches for and my fingers decide to write down. When blood and ink mix and become stories, to tell of dreams, whises, pain and a hope. A hope only the wide sea can carry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the greatest loss

**Author's Note:**

> Shanks' greatest pain. A pain he's not sure he can carry. Not without his soulmate next to him.  
> Warnings: character death, loss, tears and loneliness  
> not betaed

The world wasn't the same anymore. It just didn't feel right, nothing felt right anymore. Something was missing … no not something. Someone. Benn.

He had told himself to not cry anymore. He had promised himself that he had to be strong, that he needed to go on. That tears wouldn't change the fact that Benn was dead and he would never see him again. But Shanks couldn't help himself and again, the moment he was in his quarters, alone and shut away from his crew, tears started to spill.

How was he supposed to go on without him, without the man who had meant so much to him? Benn had been everything to Shanks, his first mate, his best friend, confidant, lover, soulmate. Everything. Now he was gone.

The tears didn't stop. Not when he hadn't been able to protect Benn. Not when Shanks held Benn in his arm, crying threats and shouting dares about how he was not allowed to die and not when the screams faded and whispers were the only thing Shanks could give Benn, before he left. Whispers of love and whispers of hope. A hope of a life after death, a hope of seeing him again, someday, somewhere, and whispers of promises. A plain promise that he would never forget him. As if this was possible.

But even now, about half a year later, those tears wouldn't stop. Shanks knew he needed to be strong. The crew needed him, now more than ever as a war was going on, outside the secure planks of their ship. The world was in turmoil and Shanks feared. He feared that more deaths would follow, that he would be unable to protect the rest of the crew, as he had been unable to protect Benn. How could he ensure the safety of his family, when he hadn't been able to save the person he loved most? He wasn't sure anymore whether he was possible of bearing this weight on his shoulders.

Pain struck him and his knees hit the ground, as his tears rolled down his cheeks. When he was outside of his cabin he pretended to be strong. Not for himself, but for the crew. The men were all that was left and he wouldn't let them down. But to go to bed, each and every night, without that familiar presence next to him and waking up, just to find the bed cold, was something Shanks couldn't endure. He started to just refuse sleeping, unable to find rest. He looked at his bed, the one he had shared with Benn so many nights. It felt wrong to even think of peaceful sleep.

He pretended to be strong, but he wasn't. He knew that the crew was aware, but he refused to show them. The one who had been his comfort had been Benn. He had been the one to catch him when he was falling. He had sat beside his bed, telling him stories, when he was haunted by nightmares. He had been the one to come into his room and just pull him close when he felt lonely. He had been the one to ensure Shanks could be strong. But without Benn helping him to be the captain he needed to be, for his crew to survive the Grandline, Shanks felt empty. Empty and numb and not in the condition to lead a crew.

His face was tear-streaked. His shirt was wet from all those salty pearls and his hand clutched the rifle Benn had always used. The weapon had become dear to him, a reminder and memento that nothing would last forever. Nothing despite his love to Benn. He would never stop loving the man and he would never stop thinking of him as the closest person in his life.

Even though Shanks couldn't use the rifle, not in the way Benn had and not in any way to save someone's life, he always carried it with him. Next to his sword was what was left of his soulmate and if Shanks had to choose between his sword and the rifle, he would gladly give the sword.

The room wasn't cold, but Shanks shivered. The constant tears, the pain and the numbness made him weary. Outside the night was black, only some candles lit the room. Maybe he should just sleep, but he couldn't. Instead he opened his drawer and reached for a pack of smokes. Benn's favorites. Shanks hadn't started right away. He never had been the one to smoke, only enjoyed the smell on Benn. It had reminded him of home and security. He wanted this feeling back. He wanted it back so badly, so he lit the cigarillo. The smoke hurt in his lungs, but Shanks was over the stage of coughing. In the beginning he had. Now it was just a reminder of how much time had passed, since Benn was dead.

For a short moment the tears had stopped. For a short moment Shanks had been able to concentrate on lighting the smoke, take his first drag and believe he was able to do this, to live on. But as the ash fell off the cigarillo, burning on the planks for a little while before they went out and gray, they came back mercilessly.

He knew Benn wouldn't want to see him like this. Shanks knew, Benn would hit his head hard, tell him to stop whining and be a proper captain for the crew. He would shake his head, raise an eyebrow and look at him, concerned, before he would pull him close and tell Shanks he wouldn't leave, wouldn't leave him alone.

The problem was, he had. He had left, he had left Shanks alone and when someone else of the crew tried to comfort him, Shanks pushed them away. They weren't Benn, they weren't what he needed and he couldn't admit how weak he was in front of his crew. He was supposed to be strong, but only Benn had ever known that, how strong Shanks had ever been, he had also been as weak. It had also been Benn who had known how to raise his strength and make the best out of his weakness.

Shanks knew Benn wouldn't want to see him like this. He also knew Benn was crying, wherever he was right now. Crying over the loss Shanks had to endure, despite the fact he was the loss. Crying over not being able to comfort his captain, even though there would be nothing to comfort if he would be able to do so. He was crying, and Shanks knew in his tears that Benn was crying. But it didn't stop the tears, neither Benn's nor Shanks' as both of them cried, unable to reach each other.

They tried. They tried hard, but didn't manage. Because what was worse than death was their separation.

 


	2. pinprick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shanks hates needles and Benn is a good distraction.  
> Not betaed  
> Warnings: cursing

„Shit!“ Yasopp wailed out and Benn looked up from where he was checking the railing. It had gotten some scratches, after a canon had gazed it during their last fight. Apparently Yasopp, who helped him doing the task, had cut himself at some of the wood, and blood was seeping down his hand. “Dammit, that's really not necessary right now.”

“Are you alright?” Benn asked, a little worried, though the wound didn't look too bad. However it was still bleeding and Yasopp probably needed a bandage or at least a plaster.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't pay enough attention,” he sighed and stood up from where he was kneeling. “I better wash this off, before dirt gets into the wound.”

“Don't you wanna see Doc?” With a little push Benn stood up as well, and turned to Yasopp, taking his hand into his own, to check how serious it was. The Redhair Pirates had the tendency to make things smaller than they were, and shrugging wounds and injuries off as they were nothing. Shanks wasn't a good example on that, really.

“Na, it's fine Benn,” Yasopp assured him, and smirked in a way that told Benn he was, indeed, playing it down. With a frown he let go of the hand.

“I'll get you a bandage anyway,” he told his crewmate and nodded into the direction of the bathroom, indicating he would meet Yasopp there. “I'm back in a minute.”

He only got a roll of Yasopp's eyes, and a smirk that called out 'mother hen' as an answer. Oh well … whatever.

The walk to the medical quarters didn't take long, though the nearer Benn came, the more he heard voices. It sounded like Doc was really furious, because he was yelling at someone. A moment later, when a laugh answered that yell, Benn knew why. He would always recognize his captain's voice, and he would never doubt a shouting at said captain was without a reason. Shanks was probably driving poor Doc insane.

“Can you just quit it, for fuck's sake. You are a fucking Yonko and no fucking child, so sit still, and fucking stop pulling your arm away every fucking time I try to give you the injection, or I will really hurt you in the end,” Doc shouted, the moment Benn opened the door. With a blink he tried to get the scenery in front of him.

Doc was towering over Shanks, who sat on one of the medical beds, ducking away, grinning shamelessly. His arm was behind his back, probably to hide it from their doctor, who had a syringe in his hands. The man looked like he wanted to punch Shanks, or strangle him, or both. Somehow Benn wasn't even surprised.

“That was using the word 'fuck' for five times in one … two sentences. Doc, I'm impressed,” Benn smirked as he knocked at the wooden door frame to get the attention of them both. While the doctor just growled, Shanks sprung up and rushed to Benn, to hide behind his first mate.

“Help me, Doc has a needle,” he whined, his hand gripping Benn's shirt tightly, while his head peeked out to look into the room. Benn couldn't help himself but sigh. His arm reach behind himself, to pull Shanks back in front of him, and the man let him do so, though he wrapped his arm around Benn again, and looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

“Shanks, it's just a little pinprick. It will be over before you realize it's done,” Benn said, wondering how Shanks could possibly be afraid of an injection when he endured shots, cuts and slashes without the bat of an eye, and even had smiled when his arm had been bitten off. He would never fully understand that man.

“I told him that for the last ten minutes, I don't think it'll help,” Doc shoved in a little sourly, and Benn shook his head. He could imagine all too well. With having Shanks still hugging him, Benn moved inside, closing the door behind him. “What do you actually want?” Doc finally asked.

“Yasopp cut his hand and I wanted to get a bandage,” Benn answered a little absentmindedly, as he turned him and Shanks around, sat on the bed, and pulled Shanks on his lap. Within moments he had a cuddly captain on him, snuggling close, and visibly enjoying that he still had escaped the syringe, and was close to his lover.

“I'll get that ready. All better than trying to vaccinate this child of a captain.” If looks could kill, Shanks would have been definitely dead by now, but instead of minding, he just stuck out his tongue, as to prove Doc's words.

“I don't like it, alright,” he defended himself, and it was that look in his eyes, that made Benn weak. How the hell was he always falling for Shanks, being a dork most of the times, but having the purest heart, when it came down to what counted. When he said he didn't like it, he didn't like it, no lies, no playing, just honesty.

Benn brushed his hand over Shanks' cheek, and caressed his lips with his thumb. The vaccination was important, that was for sure, but there had to be a way to make it easier. When Doc returned with the bandage ready, Benn shifted Shanks slightly in his lap, so his arm was into reach for the doctor. Shanks didn't seem to care, or he didn't notice.

“Where is Yasopp, though? I can take care of his cut myself, as I don't think Shanks will get his injection today, anyway,” he told Benn. He obviously had given up on the thought of vaccinating his captain. Shanks had realized so much as well, because he smiled happily, but Benn wouldn't let go so fast, especially as he had an idea.

“He's in the upper bathroom. But …,” he trailed off to look at Shanks, who sensed that Benn wanted to say something, and sat a little straighter in his lap.

“What is it, Benn?” Shanks voice was curious but also encouraging, so Benn smiled at him.

“How about I'll distract you while Doc gives you the injection? So you won't realize anything, or else I have to work on my skills,” Benn said with a little musing in his voice at the end of the sentence. It seemed Shanks understood, because he beamed at Benn, nodding. Doc only looked confused, but wasn't protesting. Not when there was the chance to finally do what he actually had tried for more than ten minutes.

“Fine,” Shanks said, and Benn looked at Doc, grinning.

“You better get that syringe ready,” he told him, and the doctor did as he was told. When he was back, Shanks flinched at the sight, but Benn softly gripped his chin and looked at him. “Everything will be alright.”

Another last short nod to Doc showed the man he could start, then Benn leaned down and kissed Shanks softly, though intensified the kiss when he saw out of the corner of his eye that Doc was taking Shanks arm into his hand to search for a vein. His tongue tipped against Shanks' lips, and he was granted access immediately. A soft moan sounded through the room when they started to fight for dominance, unclear if it had been Benn's or Shanks'.

It didn't take long until Doc stepped back, sighing and shaking his head. “I'm done.” But neither Shanks nor Benn were really paying attention as they were too focused on each other, kissing and being lost in the heat of the moment. Benn somewhat realized that Doc groaned, and telling them he would see for Yasopp, but only when he was long gone they let go of each other, panting.

With a sly and very satisfied smile Shanks grinned at Benn, who could only mirror that expression. 

“Sometimes I'm really glad we never hid our relationship from the crew,” Benn smirked. It made Shanks chuckle, as he ran his hand over his lover's chest.

“And I'm very glad they still keep up with us,” he added honestly. His head tilted a little to the side, as he nudged Benn's nose with his own. “Are we gonna continue that in our own room?”

A chuckle left Benn's throat, his smile answer enough. “So you forget that bad, bad pinprick?” he asked, and Shanks grinned.

“Yes.”

“Then we should probably do that.”

 


	3. there won't be a tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benn finds Shanks kissing another person, and runs. Maybe he can solve all of it tomorrow. Maybe he can, but maybe there isn't a tomorrow
> 
> not betaed

Shanks was a flirt. It was something Benn had always been aware of, and never minded, in all his years of being in a relationship with his captain. The women just liked to look at him, gosh Benn could understand it. He knew exactly how good-looking the other was, with his vivid red hair and that stunning smile. Additionally Shanks was fun, easy to talk to and most of the time a little dork, which made him even more attractive. It was okay if he flirted here and there, they were men and pirates, it was just normal.

Nevertheless, one thing Benn had always been sure of was that Shanks wouldn’t betray or dump him. Flirting yes, touching no. It had always been like that, and Benn had been content it would stay like it forever.

_Until now…_

He had opened the door to the bar, his eyes darting over the crew, who were already partying, while Benn had done some random task, before he decided to join his men. The greeting was already on his lips, when he spotted his captain, who was currently very much kissing a girl, Benn had never seen before. Good-looking, yes, a handsome woman, pretty much Shanks’ type, but no matter a stranger. A stranger who was just kissed by his partner, captain, lover. Without warning Benn could feel how his heart broke and shattered. While the crew started to cheer – those traitors – he silently closed the door behind him again.

The first few meters Benn had been slowly walking, utter shock and disbelief all written over his face. Then he started to sped up, until he was running. With it came the tears, hot, messy pearls that streaked down his face. His surroundings were blurry, the houses just outlines, gray in the evening.

His feet carried him, without his brain realizing where he was going. Just away. Away from what he had seen, away from that painful, broken feeling. But the shards that once had been his heart still remained cutting through his body. A small low voice tried to tell him that there was an explanation for sure, that Shanks would never, ever hurt him like it. It were lost words, useless against the image that burned in his head. The man he loved kissing another person.

The tears didn’t want to stop running and made a pitiful man out of him. Benn Beckman, first mate of a Yonko, broken by said person. Tomorrow would be different, tomorrow would be better. He could talk to Shanks, ask why he had done so. But today, today he was lost in his own merciless feelings.

Time passed while he was running without a destination, fleeing from his pain. It may be an hour, a long while for an actual run, but Benn did manage, he was trained and used to hard work. Nevertheless it took its troll on him, the running in circles around an empty, sleeping city, crying and feeling broken. It may be the exhaustion, or just the bad coincidence, that lead to his doom. But when he didn’t realize the high-ranked marine, he run straight into and wasn’t able to fight properly, when said marine easily overtook him, he was lost. Mere minutes were needed, before he hit the wall of an house hard, the breath knocked out of his lungs.

_“Benn Beckman. Who had thought such a famous pirate is so easily defeated?”_

The voice was a taunt, but it couldn’t even annoy him. During the war of the bests he had threatened Kizaru with simple words. Now he was laying in the dirt, defeated.

_“Lets see if we get the captain with the first mate. What a wonderful bait.”_

Laughter washed over him, and he was too weak to ignore it. Instead his mind swirled over the words. So he was the bait? His mind flashed back to Shanks kissing another girl, another person, someone who wasn’t him. Suddenly he wondered whether Shanks would take it or not. The bait. Him. Maybe Shanks wouldn’t even care. Maybe it was better when he did not care. Because even though Shanks obviously had played with him, who knew how long, Benn still loved him with all his heart. The crew needed him. It was better like this. Better when Shanks didn’t come after him. Whitebeard had lost a war, many people had died. He wouldn’t want the same for his own crew. Maybe … maybe it was good Shanks had kissed that person.

 **“You won’t get him…,”** Benn whispered, and it seemed his words angered the marine enough for action. He felt a pain at his head, just for a short moment. It exploded like a volcano and brought darkness with it. Then there was nothing anymore. It was over.


	4. wind, words and grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace and Whitebeard's funeral is just days ago, but the grief Benn haunts is not same as Marco's is.

Minutes had passed like hours, the wind tousling up his hair and leaving it messed. His smoke had long gone out and he hadn’t found the strength to light himself another one. The sand he sat on was cold and by now the dampness of it had soaked up his pants.

Waves crashed against the beach, the white crests glittering on the shells and stones that bordered the always growing line of how far the water reached to claim what it deemed belonged to the sea. Gray clouds covered the sky and the dropping temperature was a sign of the rain that would come down, eventually, to shed tears for the fallen men, now buried properly. Dead bodies covered by white marble. Not that it helped to endure the loss any better. Grief wasn’t vanishing just because the sky cried with you. But it helped… it helped.

It had been two weeks ago that the Redhair Pirates had left the remaining Whitebeard Pirates alone, leaving them in front of marvelous tombstones, a cenotaph and reminder that their brother and father had lived, and they had lived gloriously. Maybe it was a reassuring thought that they had a place to go to, to remember what was lost, but no one had been able to give so much far-sightedness into the draining work of building a tomb and going through a funeral.

The scent of the many flowers still stung in Benn’s nose and not even the sea breeze managed to replace that reminder of hundreds of broken souls. Another gust grabbed his clothes and hair, blowing them up and leaving him shudder, but it really wasn’t the cold that froze him from the inside out. Tears on a blond man’s face, the strong leader and second in command on his knees as he mourned the loss of his beloved. Benn had been able to see what no one else saw in Marco’s face. A feeling and fear he could relate to; a frightened thought he didn’t want to give room but couldn’t help as it snuck into his nightmares. Marco had blamed himself and feared the future, not able to cope with the knowledge that now he was in charge. From first mate to leader, even though he probably never wanted it.

A strange noise left Benn’s throat. It was a mixture of a huff and a sob. Never had a single sound described his feelings better and no one was around to listen to it. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time, as it still left him alone with his nagging thoughts, slowly tearing him apart. The truth was that life couldn’t be stopped and another truth was that one day Benn would be in Marco’s place, kneeling in front of a grave, mourning the loss of his captain.

His fingers dug into the damp sand, balling into a fist, as he pulled his legs closer to his body. Truth was also that there was no way Benn was able to think this scenario through. The images in his head froze, his breath ceased and air became thin. He saw the tomb, heard the sobs of his crewmates and smelled the sweet scent of the flowers, but everything past it was black, almost none-existing. His mind refused to let him see further as if it wanted him to get stuck in the breaking feeling of emptiness forever.

Going on without Shanks, leading the crew into a future as dangerous as the raging sea without their constant smiling reminder that it was worth it was something Benn wasn’t sure whether he could do or not. The idea alone that he had to live on, had to be strong, had to lead without the man who was the second half of his soul was unbearable. Not even in his nightmares, which haunted him constantly since the funeral, did he go further than to the point losing Shanks. It was enough in itself to rob him even the last bits of his sleep and draw circles of neglect under his eyes.

His lids closed, shutting out the gray of the sea in front of him, while his hand let go of the sand between his fingers and ran over his face. He could feel the remaining grains rub over his skin, roughening it up. Hair tickled his arms as he buried his head into them. He should go back to the ship that was safely moored some hundred meters away from him, but he couldn’t gather the energy to move.

Goosebumps appeared on his arms when warm, calloused fingers stroke over his displayed neck. He had felt the familiar presence even before he was touched but still his body reacted to it. Having warm skin on his made Benn realize how cold he was and the sudden thought struck him that he had lost each and every feeling of time. How long had he been sitting here, letting the frightening future cloud the present and make him unable to move?

The fingers left, but the warmth stayed and instinctively Benn gave up his huddled position, eyes opening again to face whatever was coming. A sad smile slipped when he tilted his head to look at his captain, who had sat himself next to him. There were no questions in the other man’s bright eyes, just understanding and concern.

“You’re getting a cold.”

The voice wasn’t reprimanding, nor was it light. Instead it carried so much more than just these few words. They said all what couldn’t be spoken, the different meanings surrounding the sound of the utterance like soap bubbles, shimmering in the sallow sunlight until the wind took and blew them away. Lost in the width of the sea.

Silence filled the air and only the back and forth of the waves broke the stillness, or carried it further, emphasizing that both captain and first mate weren’t speaking. A lot of sentences crashed through Benn’s mind, each and every one more frightening than the one before but nothing came out of his mouth. In fact, he wasn’t even trying to say all of those thoughts – Shanks dying, seeing red hair flatter in the wind as he fell. Screams filling the air, the loudest his own. An order fulfilled but breaking his heart at once, the last thing he ever would hear out of his beloved’s mouth to run. The flowers’ scent stinging and remaining as the only thing not ever leaving, when he has to turn and walk away from the grave that would carry his heart forever. A body with an empty soul… and again air became short, breathing became hard while his chest tightened.

A hand slung around his back, pulled him closer and air came rushing back into his lungs. His head, heavy with all the unspoken thoughts, dropped to the side and a broad shoulder held it. There were so many words but as his eyes darted into the gray, wondering where the horizon ended, all that left him was his deepest desire.

“Don’t leave me.”

Soft touches took the tension from him, fingers drawing small circles into his side and the silence of the crashing waves was replaced by a low chuckle. Every other living being that had the ability to sympathize wouldn’t have dared to laugh at the heaviness the words had held, but Shanks was not like everyone else and the irritation he brought with his actions eased Benn’s painful thinking. Prediction never worked with such a man.

“I won’t and you will not leave me, too.”

What was meant as a reassurance only brought confusion. The determined tone left no room for objection, but Benn realized he wouldn’t even want to. His head lifted and his upper body turned a little, while his eyes fixed with Shanks’. As always he drowned in them, gladly jumping into the depths that lay hidden behind shimmering brown. Like a door ready to be opened he wanted to explore the secrets locked away.

No words left his lips, unable to speak, Benn tried to find the answers in those familiar expressions, in that small smile which wouldn’t want to turn into a smirk just yet. Another strong gust seemed to push them even closer before he was released from his pointless search.

“I’m a pirate, Benn. I’m selfish and I hate to be alone. You follow my every order and I will take advantage of it. I am greedy. I take what I need. When the time comes and battle kills me and my crew, I will order each and every man to run, despite of you. If I go down, you will go down next to me. I could say I am sorry I will drag you into your death, eventually, but I am not. Because you will still be besides me and when you are besides me my fear can’t reach me. It is selfish but I never was a good person.”

The words may be heavy, even scary because they told fate wasn’t lying in his hands anymore but was taken off him by another man, but Benn always had known it wasn’t him who decided over fate. Instead he leaned against Shanks again, his head dropping to the side and his stance slumped into the other’s chest, all the raging thoughts in him gone. A warm arm was slung around him, shifted him into a more comfortable position and fingers played with his hair.

Gray clouds were moved by the wind and a small piece of blue shone through the blanket for a moment that covered the sky. It wasn’t visible for long but it made Benn smile, while his hands reached into his pocket and searched for the shape of his cigarillo box. Nimble fingers fished for one smoke but didn’t light it. Instead he turned it in his hand, holding it loosely.

“You’re not a bad person.”

It was as true as Shanks’ words had been, because not being a good person wasn’t making you into a bad one. None of the Redhair Pirates were good, they were pirates and the deeper meaning of the word pirate itself forbade any owner to be entirely good. They never would be.

Simple sentences had just decided over the ending of his life, spoken with such determination that accepting them was the only reasonable way to react. Considering such an outcome as good wasn’t something to do, but Benn would never call it bad either. His mind wandered back to the scent of flowers, to the sobbing of the crew, the gravestones and he realized he had known all along that Shanks wouldn’t let him go. A scenario in which he would lead the crew after turning and leaving his heart behind wasn’t imaginable because it would never happen. Just knowing so much was a relief.

Telling his captain it was okay, even appreciated, would be an option but instead of wording thoughts unnecessary to be voiced, he finally reached for his matches and the flame danced before his eyes as he lit his cigarillo. The sea breeze hit his nostrils, the salty smell a reminder of what still awaited him on his journey. Giving much thought to the future didn’t prevent it from happening. Life and death loved each other and created the present they lived in. Benn knew he was a pirate, too and therefore selfish. He wanted the present to be his.

“No I am not. But you aren’t either. Neither good nor bad….”

The voice trailed off, the answer coming late, as if it had been given a lot of thought. Now it was Benn chuckling, the breath that left his mouth mixing with smoke. With the vibrating of his chest he felt the strong abs on his back, his strong hold. The arm never left but gave him freedom to move and Benn used it to turn. His gaze was drawn to the sky when a drop hit his cheek, but he wiped it away, before his fingers removed the just lit cigarillo from between rugged lips and stubbed it out into the wet sand.

“I am yours.”

Another truth, maybe the most important, between these two men. Within seconds the sky opened its gates and poured rain onto them, soaking them wet. Water and words washed away every flowery-scented memory, every truth that had been a lie and negated it until there was only one thing left.

“I am yours, as well.”


	5. cup of tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shanks can't speak and Benn makes him tea.  
> Fluff goes fluffy

It was way past midnight when Benn pushed the papers away from him and yawned, rubbing his tiered eyes. There was still enough work to do for tomorrow, but his mind wasn’t working anymore and all he wanted was to slip into bed and burry his nose into Shanks’ red strands. Automatically his fingers reached for a cigarillo out of the box which lay open on the desk. Putting the smoke between his lips, he fished for his lighter next and a soft click announced the flame.

Darkness was all his eyes saw when he looked out of the bull’s eye. While he inhaled the nicotine, cigarillo dangling between his lips, Benn cleaned the desk. He wasn’t really thinking about the movements he made, his fingers knowing where to put the utensils. Just when he had closed the lid of his ink he heard a soft knocking at the door. While the first mate turned around, mouth forming words to allow the person coming in, the door was opened. Opting to something different from what Benn had wanted to say, as soon as he spotted who it was, he spoke, “Shanks…”

The redhead looked rather miserable, going by his red, droopy eyes and the pained expressions on his face. Letting the rest of the tools be, Benn closed the distance between them with a few steps. He was faced with a weary smile and realized how hot the other felt the moment he took the man’s hand. “You’re ill.”

“Doc’s already sleeping,” Shanks mumbled, his voice hoarse and now Benn realized the throat was slightly swollen. There had been a few signs during the day that Shanks wasn’t feeling well, such as his red eyes and some coughs, but nothing close to how he looked now. The first mate had hoped the illness would go by without breaking out, but it seemed he had been mistaken.

“And you decided your condition is not worth waking him up?” Benn asked with a risen eyebrow, a little scolding in his tone. The doctor definitely wouldn’t mind to be disturbed in his sleep seeing Shanks’ condition, but their captain was a rather stubborn one. A little smirk and nod made Benn sigh, but he was glad Shanks avoided speaking for the most part. “We get you something…”

Being faced with the cutest of smiles, Benn shook his head but couldn’t stop a matching one to slip. Entangling their fingers, they walked out of the card’s room, the light shut off and the door closed, leaving the half cleaned desk for tomorrow. “Have you been sleeping already?”

Something between a hum and a word told Benn his captain had. The sound was low, but the absence of noise on the sleeping ship allowed the first mate to understand even the quietest of sounds. It pained Benn to see how bad the other looked, when he turned his head slightly to face him.

“You didn’t come to bed,” Shanks whispered, more to rest his throat rather than to be quiet. It didn’t stop the disappointed tone to come through. The words caused a little pang at Benn’s heart and he halted in his steps, turning completely and pulling his lover close. Arms wrapped around the broad back, feeling the muscles through the fabric of the white shirt Shanks wore.

“I’m sorry. I forgot the time,” the first mate said, but the look he got was saying more than words could and he gulped. An apologizing twitch of his lips was all to his defense, and when he answered it, Benn sounded almost like a beaten puppy. “I know. I always forget the time. I’m really sorry, Shanks.”

Silvery strands covered his face, when his head dropped. Knowing he should work less wasn’t helping as he still only slept around five hours a day to get all things he deemed necessary done. Shanks had told him more than once to forget the paperwork, but Benn couldn’t. All the effort he put into his work was not for him but for the crew and he would never want to fail the men or his captain. He loved them and wanted to ensure their happiness with everything he had. Which also contained some hours behind a desk.

A hit into his side made him look up again and somehow Shanks managed to place a peck onto Benn’s cheek before the older realized what was going on. Tilting his head, his hand brushed over the spot, while gray eyes met shimmering brown ones. Shanks even stuck out his tongue in a playful manner, but instead of rolling his eyes, like Benn would usually do, he leaned down and kissed those lips softly, not before biting into the stuck-out tongue with little force.

“Benn, you get sick, too,” Shanks complained with a cracking voice when Benn pulled back, but the older just laughed and eventually released his hug. Two fingers were placed against the lips to silence the captain, before they found the hand again, entangling their fingers. They went on, towards the galley, Benn just giving Shanks a pull to walk along.

“Rest your voice. If I get sick we can at least be sick together,” the first mate chuckled and received a pout for his words. There sure was something Shanks wanted to say, but he refrained from it, either listening to his first mate, or just following the words because speaking really hurt.

The galley was pitch black and, as expected, completely empty when Benn switched on the light. From time to time some of the men slipped in to get something to eat or drink, tho, during the night. It wasn’t a problem, the Red Force never lacked food and none of the crew members had an appetite like Roo, or well, Luffy and Roo was the chef, so he could come and go in his kitchen as he pleased. Luffy, thank god, wasn’t living on their ship, and for a short moment Benn wondered how his crew handled the young’s captain’s appetite.

His focus was drawn back to his own captain, when said one pulled him through the room to the actual kitchen, which was separated from the dining room by a door. Making himself loose from Shanks, Benn went straight for the cupboard he knew some painkillers were in. Getting them and a glass of water he handed them over. Shanks first swallowed the pill and then took a sip.

“You have to see Doc tomorrow for antibiotics,” Benn mumbled. No matter he had a little knowledge about medicine he would never be foolish enough to give someone antibiotics or similar. Not without a proper diagnosis of a doctor.

A nod told him Shanks understood, not foolish enough to argue with Benn about this topic. He hadn’t had the voice for it anyway. Something good that came out of it, at least.

“I make you a tea and then we go to bed, okay?”

Another nod approved of the suggestion and Benn turned to the hearth to put on a kettle. Again hands moved without much thinking, he wasn’t in the kitchen often, but often enough to know where to find the basic things. Opening the tap he filled the kettle with water and placed it on a stove. He just wanted to turn, to ask Shanks what kind of flavor he liked, when he felt an arm slip around his stomach and a face was buried in his back.

“Are you okay?” Benn asked silently, getting his answer by feeling the head move up and down. A little chuckle left him, not really aware for what. Turning, he faced Shanks, who gave him the space to do so, looking up at his first mate with red but thankful eyes. It made Benn smile.

Loosening his sash with neat and quick movements, Benn slung the yellow fabric around the other man’s neck, again and again, until the fabric wasn’t hanging on the floor anymore. Shanks himself wasn’t wearing one, he had probably just slipped in his pants and shirt, as he usually slept in his boxers only.

“We have to keep it warm,” Benn chuckled, eyes glinting with soft amusement and Shanks buried his nose into the fabric, smirking.

“It smells like you,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. The chuckle faded into a smile with the words and only the whistling kettle kept Benn from replying something really corny. Instead he just brushed a few strands that had entangled with the fabric loose and stroke Shanks’ cheek with his thumb. Then it was gone and reaching for the teas.

“Rooibos?” came the question and Shanks nodded, both of them fully aware that Benn knew it was his captain’s favorite. Two teabags were placed in a thermos jug and the jug filled with the steaming water. Closing it with the top, Benn snatched a mug, spoon and honey from a cupboard and nodded to the door. “Let’s go to bed.”

Another nod followed, before a hand snatched the honey out of Benn’s hand, no matter Shanks wasn’t able to hold it anymore and taking a taste at the same time. Soon the galley was dark again, while the two leaders of the Red Force snuggled against each other in their bed, just like any other couple would.


	6. Birthday surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Benn's birthday and the day goes as planned... or so they believed.  
> Happy Birthday, Benn! (9th November)

The hand of the tall wall clock gave a silent click, before it ringed twelve times in a low, rhythmic chime. A sigh mixed into the sound, a deep, exhausted baritone that everyone on the Red Force knew belonged to their first mate. His hand currently ran over his face and tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes. It wasn’t working.

“Happy Birthday, you old wreck,” he mumbled to himself, knowing all too well that he just had gotten another year older. Nothing he enjoyed too much, least since he had realized his hair was greying. Thirty-five was not that old, but for a pirate it seemed ages. Others, better men, had died only half his age, but by now Benn was tempted to believe Shanks who always joked he would die in a rocking chair, reading the newspaper and grumbling silently, like old men were supposed to. Sometimes he wanted to answer he already did just that.

Gray, stormy eyes darted over the stacks of paper that were carelessly spread over his desk. Maps mixed with charts, mixed with reports of allied crews and protected islands. It was enough to keep him busy the next two weeks, but nothing that needed to be done right away. It was rather the attempt to stay awake some more hours, so he would sleep into the day and give his crew the chance to prepare this super-secret-surprise-party he was aware of since the very beginning of its preparations, that kept him at the desk. It was hard to not know what was going on on a ship, and even harder to hide a party from the very man who managed the money. Actually, Benn had become used to giving Shanks a bag full coins two weeks prior to his birthday, so the men could buy as they pleased, without trying to sneak into the treasure room. He liked to keep track on how much they owned and it was such a hassle to pretend not knowing money was vanishing. And the rearranging of the books… he didn’t want to think of it.

It wasn’t that Benn wanted to take the fun from the crew. It obviously was important to the men to throw him a party, but he didn’t get why it always had to be a surprise. Everyone knew he was aware of the preparations and he always turned a blind eye to it, pretending he was surprised when the actual party took place. It had become a crazy habit, but being honest to himself, he had to admit there were worse ones.

A small smirk crept onto his face and his gaze darted over the mess in front of him. It would take him another while to sort through the papers, yet he didn’t mind too much. He rather did things now to have it off his chest for tomorrow. No matter how much he stated he didn’t like his birthday, a small part of him enjoyed to be the center of attention. With all the men putting so much effort into his special day, Benn could only accept it gratefully. If he had to get old, at least he got old with people he loved.

* * *

Soft touches of calloused fingers woke Benn the next day, his eyes tightly shut as he tried to catch the dream that was running through his hands. For a moment, he kept lying still, letting the sweet darkness of his sleep engulf him. Then he opened his lids, considering the softest hue of brown he’d ever known and a smile stretched on his lips automatically.

“Good morning, capt’n,” he mumbled sleepily. It was replied with a low chuckle that made the brown dance. Still considering the other man’s eyes, Benn rather felt than saw how Shanks leant down until their lips met. A kiss like a butterfly touch; soft, warm and way too short. A grumble surfaced from his throat, but died on his tongue with Shanks’ words.

“Good morning, birthday boy. Will you stand up on your own or do you need to be bribed?”

It was the playful tone that elicited a pleased noise, almost a hum of encouragement you’d rather expect from a wildcat, purring under the hands of a man. It was unclear who the hunter was in this scenario. With such a treasure at stake you couldn’t really lose.

With relaxed and lazy movements Benn propped himself up, his elbow pressed into the mattress, while Shanks, who half sat next to and half lied over him, followed his movements. Their chests were touching, and Benn could feel the muscles play under the thin fabric that was covering this sin of a body. Suddenly he was very hungry for more than just a morning kiss, and his tongue licked the dry lips of his own.

“Bribe me,” he answered, finally, in a deep, sleepy voice. The gray in his eyes swirled, revealing the blue that was mostly hidden. How pleasant he didn’t wear much when Shanks used his hand to strike over his naked shoulder, to find a good grip for pressing him back into the sheets.

“As you wish and happy birthday,” Shanks mumbled, grinning excitedly and lowered himself over Benn, catching his lips for a deep kiss. A moan rolled off against their mouths, and adventurous hands slipped around a muscled back and under white fabric. It was very unclear to Benn how he’d be bribed into standing up with such an invitation to stay in bed even longer, but he didn’t complain. Especially not when hungry lips made their way down his body, and sparks of pleasure managed to make him forget his own name.

* * *

Two hours later Benn was freshly showered, dressed and standing on deck, to blink against the sun sparkle on turquoise water. Shanks had left him alone after a second round, telling him that he’d better never complain about getting old, again, with so much need in his loins. The first mate would have enjoyed staying in bed with his lover for the rest of the day, but he knew the crew would never allow it. They had put too much effort into this party to let him ditch it for a primal instinct. Another last look onto the water was him permitted, then he was pulled into a firm hug.

“Happy birthday, buddy,” sounded into his ear, as Yasopp clapped his back amicably. A grin appeared and Benn mumbled a “Thank you” before he was released and could step out of the door frame. Several eyes found him and before he could stop it, he was rounded by a bunch of men, all of them chatting and pulling him into hugs, as he accepted one congratulation after the other. Somewhere out of the corner of his eye he saw Shanks making his way through the bulk, winking into his direction before he was gone again. Bubbling laughter echoed into the humming noise, while Benn wondered what the day would bring.

It took a while to talk with every man of the crew. Whenever Benn believed he had seen everyone another member appeared and congratulated him. Only when his stomach rumbled, he was freed and caught Roo’s risen eyebrow that spoke volumes. The first mate hadn’t eaten yet and it was hours ago since he had woken up. A loud “Let the man have breakfast” elicited bubbling laughter from the crew and one witty man even pointed out that it was rather lunch Benn was having. When he looked at the sun, he couldn’t argue against those words.

A plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon and fruits, and two hot steaming cups of coffee later, Benn wondered how on seas he should be able to eat cake, dinner and probably dessert later on.  The day was long and the night would be even longer, yet the first mate felt so full he didn’t want to even move. Thankfully he wouldn’t have to lift a finger today, and even his used cutlery was brought over to the bucket they collected it in for the kitchen by someone else.

People came and went, talking with him and chatting about random things, and for once Benn didn’t feel the need to stand up and work at all. He would be dragged out of his workroom, should he even try, anyway, and the sun that was shining through the bull’s eyes told him, it would stay as warm outside as the morning had announced. Meanwhile, Benn was sure of that, were the preparations for the party on palm’s deck going on. The noises that sounded into the galley from above revealed the endless work his whole crew put into this day. Even gray hair was unable to bother the pirate, with so much devotion towards him from his men.

* * *

Last sunrays illuminated the ship and the sun was already close to sinking behind the horizon. Thousand hues of gold sparkled on the ocean when Benn stepped onto the palm’s deck. A genuine smile showed how much he appreciated what was offered to him and it was indeed a wonderful sight.

Several lanterns illuminated the green leaves of the palms, on one was Monster – their monkey – grinning at him and he wondered who had managed to put a paper hat on his head. Under the trees were groups of tables arranged, candles ready to spend even more light. On each plate was a Christmas cracker, which was way too early for the season but who minded that anyway? A little afar was another table almost breaking under a pile of presents and the buffet promised a feast. Present between all the plates of deliciousnesses was a massive birthday cake, that was surrounded by thirty-five shot glasses filled with a golden liquor. Benn hadn’t had to count. It was a tradition on the Red Force that whoever’s birthday it was had to down their age in shots.

The sight was completed by the sparkling water surrounding them. It looked like a carpet out of gold had been laid out just for him, but what Benn loved the most where the smiling faces, the sparkles in eyes so familiar to him he saw them still when closing his own.

A strong arm wrapped around his waist and a chuckle made him turn his head. “Happy Birthday, again,” Shanks whispered into his ear, and for a moment Benn leant into the strong chest, letting himself carry by the warm feeling that spread through his veins.

“Thank you,” came out of his mouth, an honest answer, yet it was interrupted suddenly by a loud curse that sounded down from above. Irritated eyes, and not only his, darted to the crow’s nest that had to be manned, even on such a special day. Shanks had just made sure the shift took only two hours, so everyone had a little of the party.

Now one of their men, Cedric, a youngster that was part of their crew for only some months, peeked down and his grim face showed he had bad news to tell. His gaze searched and found their captain’s.

“There are marines ahead and it seems they spotted us because they changed course towards us,” he announced and added, shoulders pulled up and lips tight. “Sorry for ruining the mood…”

A growl showed how much Shanks liked the idea of facing marines now, and his grip tightened for a moment, before he let go. His expression was mirrored on every crewmember’s face, their arms crossed and when Cedric pointed out the direction they all turned to see the first bits of white sails reflecting the dawning sun.

“It’s not your fault. Stay put up there and thanks for telling,” Shanks answered after he had seemingly gulped down most of his anger. There was an edge in his voice, still, but to his defense none of the men were very pleased to fight, when they had looked forward to good food and a party. It was supposed to be the best part of the day and now it was interrupted. No one liked such a break.

“Maybe they go away when you ask nicely,” Benn tried to break the tension with a joke, his fingers fiddling with a lighter, to light the smoke he had put between his lips. It only made his captain snort.

“Yeah, or maybe they just come at us to ask of joining,” he replied sarcastically and looked so fed up that Benn couldn’t come around to find it cute. He didn’t fear the marines or a loss. This was obviously just a patrol, as they hadn’t come at them directly but changed course. There was very likely not even an admiral or captain on deck and facing Shanks when he was angry could be scary as hell.

The redhead moved around Benn and looked up at him, his brown eyes narrowed. It would definitely be scary, if his actions weren’t so damn adorable. “You’re not mingling into this, do you understand? It’s your birthday and you’re not allowed to work.” The words were firm, Shanks grip on his wrist was tight and Benn felt a sudden urge to tease his captain. So he did.

 “But defending myself is allowed?”

A flat hand slapped his chest and a growl made Benn laugh. He rose his hand and stepped back, snatched a stool and sat down, for everyone to see. “Fine, I just sit here and wait. You better protect me,” he announced innocently and sudden laughter accompanied his words. At least the rest of the crew was laughing again, while they watched the banter between their captain and first mate. Benn didn’t doubt that not even a bullet would come close. He rather wondered how long the interruption would take.

* * *

It took another ten minutes or so for the marines to arrive and the way the white coats were armed showed that Benn wouldn’t be so lucky with his suggestion. Not to mention that Shanks would definitely not ask anyone of them nicely whatever. The redhead was fuming, feeling his long planned party going to waste because of a pointless fight. Benn was rather amused. It was a nice break and for once indeed a surprise.

The first mate had changed from the middle of the deck to the railing, while the rest of his men had gathered down at the lower deck, awaiting their enemies. Everyone with a precise aim could shoot him easily, but that was not what Benn feared. His Haki was well trained should it come to it and Shanks had told him to not lift a finger, so he would make sure Benn didn’t have to. From the railing, however, he had the best sight onto the lower deck, where the action would take place. It felt like sitting in a theater and wait for the show to begin.

Some orders had been given to the crew, yet they could be summarized in one simple sentence: “Make them go away, fast!” What Shanks wanted was very clear and the men agreed. None of them was eager to trade alcohol for blood, and food for broken bones. Benn doubted it would come to it.

Why the marines were trying to defeat a Yonko was beyond him, anyway. Sure, Shanks didn’t carry the title since long, but one vessel was not enough to take down the Red Force. By now the marines should now, but it seemed not everyone believed in Shanks’ strength and title. Not that Shanks had specifically asked for it. But there were reasons he had been given it.

From his position, Benn could see how the soldiers formed into groups, eyeing the Redhair Pirates nervously who awaited them without fear. The leader of the ship, probably some sort of marine captain or an officer, with brown curly hair and chunky limbs, rose his arms up and down. With each move the groups of soldiers wandered from one corner to another. It was almost looking like a bizarre dance. After a while of fascinated watching, Benn gave up trying to find the reasoning behind those actions. He doubted there was one.

Grapnels pushed the two ships together, to allow the soldiers to storm the Red Force and somewhere deep in Benn’s mind he grinned over the twisted situation. Several books told pirates were the ones trying to board an enemy’s ship, yet here it was the other way round. What a scandal, would this ever made its way into public. He could already read the headline: “Pirates try to peacefully celebrate their first mate’s birthday, but marines destroy the happiness. CP0 is investigating!”

A low chuckle bubbled up, and just as Shanks could have heard him, a furious gaze met his. It didn’t help his laughter to die down, but when he managed, he waved towards his captain to tell him to watch the fight. The first marines had managed to climb the railing, yet when the first stepped on the secure planks of the Red Force, a wave of energy washed over it. Splashes of unconscious bodies hitting the water surface were heard and a moment after, a slightly too high-pitched voice ordered to fish the poor souls out. A moment later some other splashes could be heard. At least the poor men weren’t drowning.

Had that actually been fear in the marine captain’s tone? This high-pitched voice? Or was it just the usual tone of the bulky man? Benn sighed. This encounter would end quickly.

A short glance over the marine vessel’s deck told Benn more than half of the soldiers were lying on the planks, not moving. Shanks had gone easy on them. The Haki of his captain was capable of taking out the double amount of people if necessary, yet it seemed he wanted someone to let out his anger on. With his red hair, looking like dancing flames in the setting sun, and a bunch of men backing him up, like an army would their king, Benn could understand why the last few standing marines started to shake in fear of the sight Shanks gave.

“You have a miserable timing,” Shanks growled and took one step forward. Just as if the marines mirrored him, they took a step back. Impressive, but somehow Benn was reminded of a dance performance again. Maybe that came from his rather passive, on-looking position? He couldn’t quite tell.

“We will arrest you, in the name of justice.”

It was stammered out by the marine officer, who had risen his gun and pointed it at Shanks. A brave, yet stupid action, and certainly a reaction out of fear, because his hand shivered so much, that Benn feared more for Roo, who stood next to Shanks.

“Justice? Justice would be when you’d leave us alone to let us celebrate my first mate’s birthday,” the redhead answered, a sharp edge in his voice and another pang of Haki made a few more marines go down. They hit the planks with a loud clonk, while to Benn it felt like a sweet caress. Since ever Shanks’ Haki felt like a feather stroking his heart, no matter how angry the redhead was.

It wasn’t like this for the marine captain, though and in his surprise, he’d just pressed the trigger of his gun. Ricochet-like the bullet made its way into the bulk of the Redhair Pirates, who stepped aside carelessly as if It hadn’t been a bullet shot at them but rather a snowball. Before it could hit the wooden walls, one of his men, Benn couldn’t see who it was, diverted the bullet’s trajectory and it vanished in the wide ocean.

Triggered by the action, or maybe it was just the shock, another member of the marines released a gun shortly after. With astonishment Benn could watch the small bullet become bigger and bigger, until it was the size of a small ball. This was the work of a devil’s fruit and a rather impressive one. It was always amazing how different those given powers could be.

With a risen eyebrow, he was aware that the bullet-ball flew directly towards him, yet Benn didn’t feel the need to move. He just smirked over the shocked faces of the remaining marines who realized there was a man standing up on the higher deck. Arms loosely hung over the railing, Benn exhaled the smoke of the cigarillo he had just lit a few moments ago on the stump of his last. Gray swirls shimmered in the air. Then Roo moved, faster than it seemed possible with his size of a body, and kicked the still growing bullet away. A loud splash announced it drowned in the sea, some water droplets drippling over the two groups of people.

“The hell you shoot something towards Benn and the cake! Do you have any idea how long I stood in the kitchen to prepare all the food? It took me fucking ages to create a cream that’s not too sweet and still suitable for a birthday cake.”

Loud and angry sounded the voice over to the marines and even some of the Redhair Pirates looked rather shocked. It was seldom to see Roo enraged. Usually he had a calm nature and something soothing was in his aura. Now he seemed furious and Benn wondered if it was out of fear for him or the cake, that could be destroyed. To Roo’s defense, it was pretty hard to get Benn eating sweets. Most cakes and desserts were too sticky and sweet for his liking. He wondered what the cream for this one was made of. Hopefully coffee-something.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to,” came a low reply to the accusation and Benn’s gaze darted to a figure next to the marine captain. It was a smaller person, almost too fragile looking for a soldier. It seemed it was a young boy, until the marine looked up to him and it surprised Benn to realize it was a woman speaking. She gave an apologetical smile, before she turned to her captain. From the distance, it wasn’t easy to see what was going on. A few words were spoken that didn’t reach his ear, then the woman gripped the hand of her superior. The gesture was almost pleadingly.

“You should listen to your second in command,” Shanks suddenly said, and Benn’s focus was dragged back to his own captain. The redhead had stepped further to the railing, and something in his face had shifted. The expressions were less angry, almost soft. Shanks must have heard what Benn had missed.

“You’re not giving me orders.”

Like a cannonball the reply was shot back to Shanks. The marine captain had his gun ready in hand and pointed at the red-head, again, after he had lowered it before. Now it was back up, but the usual reaction of fear one would have stayed out. Instead Shanks rolled his eye and sighed. “Listen. That man up there,” Shanks said and even pointed into Benn’s direction as if there wasn’t only him standing on the upper deck, “is my second in command and when he tells me to fucking retreat when facing loss, I don’t argue but gather my men and get the hell out of the situation. It saved my life several times and it definitely will another few ones. I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just want to have a quiet evening and celebrate with my man and my crew. If you don’t want to listen to that smart woman next to you, listen to me, because I am a Yonko and I tell you to get your crew and leave!”

The last words had been spoken with more emphasis, but still the man wasn’t moving. Uncertainty was visible in his stance, his pride probably holding him at spot, while his better judgement told him to go. When the woman though pressed at the shoulder of the marine captain, he moved and hissed. “Fine, I go, but I come back,” he spat but Shanks only waved it off.

“Yeah, yeah do whatever you want but just don’t do it on my first mate’s birthday.” His voice was light, but a serious undertone showed he did mean it. The next time it would not end this peacefully. It seemed the woman had understood that, too, because for a moment she turned again and bowed in front of them.

“I’ll make sure to keep it in mind,” she stated and Benn couldn’t come around to be impressed. Not many had the courage to speak up against their boss and face a Yonko like this. Maybe the woman should be the leader of this crew, instead of a man who was driven by pride more than by common sense. He shook his head. The marines had strange ways of picking their officers.

* * *

An hour later the marine vessel disappeared in the distance. The sun had long made its way over the horizon and the crew was back up at the palm’s deck. Only the lanterns and the candles illuminated the scene, when Roo cut down the first piece of the cake to hand it at his first mate.

“Happy birthday, Benn,” he said, again, even though he had done so hours before and Benn took the plate with interest, eyeing the different layers and fillings. His eyebrow rose but his grin betrayed him. “You were pretty fond of your cake before, I hope it’s as good as the show promised.”

Roo just snorted, pointing the knife he still had in hand at him and Benn took a step back. He would have risen his hands in defeat, but didn’t, in better judgement of the precious good he was holding.

“You better like the cake, after all it took me five hours to finish it,” he exclaimed and Benn laughed, before he took a bite. Tastes of chocolate and coffee filled his mouth, the sweetness not too much while the cream melted on his tongue. Nodding, he took another mouthful and then grinned, “Yeah, not bad.”

“Not bad?” Roo snorted, doing another step towards Benn, the knife dangerously close now. But just like that Shanks stepped in and pushed the blade away with his fingers. A pout was on his face and he tilted his head towards the monstrous buffet table, with the cake at sight.

“Would you stop threatening my first mate and cut down that cake. I’m starving,” Shanks exclaimed and Roo just grimaced and did as he was told, handing one plate after another to the waiting crew. Meanwhile Benn had stepped a little away from the bunch, watching them starting to get the party going. Next to him was Shanks, still by his side.

“What had the woman said to the marine, that had impressed you that much?” Benn asked out of a sudden, while Shanks leaned at the railing, his brown eyes at Benn’s slowly graying hair.

For a moment there was silence, then he made a move and snatched the fork out of Benn’s hand, tasting the cake himself. Just when he had gulped down the bite, he answered. “She told him to think of the crew.” Benn rose an eyebrow, remembering the fond smile on Shanks’ face he still saw vividly when recalling it. He knew there was something else to come.

A sigh told him he was right.

“She reminded me of you. You would have said the same. You always think of others before you think of yourself,” Shanks said after a short break. The chatter of the crew was radiating to them from afar, the musicians started to tune their instruments for later. The sea breeze filled Benn’s nostrils, but was soon replaced by a smell of honey, rum and something he just couldn’t resist, when he leaned down to steal a kiss.

“I have you to take care of me,” he mumbled, when he let go of the lips again. “The whole day proves it.”

Shanks just smiled and when Benn took his hand, to drag him back to their men, to have a good time the captain complied. After all, Benn knew that Shanks followed his good advice, when Benn requested it. Hadn’t he said so just earlier? There was nothing more he could ask for his birthday, than living under such an amazing captain. And he enjoyed it every day he got older, and wiser and still stayed the same he already was. A Redhair Pirate.


End file.
